A Legacy Lives On
by EsmeAmelia
Summary: After the festivities, Rey mourns Ben in private.


AN: I don't own Star Wars (again). This was written for my friend RensKnight, who was really upset not only that Ben died in TROS, but that no one seemed to mourn him.

"A Legacy Lives On"

By EsmeAmelia

It was hours before Rey could escape the celebration. At the beginning there was adrenaline that Palpatine had been defeated, relief that her friends were alive and safe, which for a time helped to numb what had happened on Exegol, but it was always on the edge of her mind, threatening to overtake her.

But now that night had fallen and many exhausted fighters were retiring, she was finally free to return to Luke's X-Wing and retrieve the items she had saved from Exegol.

Ben's shirt and pants.

She clutched them to her chest as she descended the ladder and wove her way around the various bonfires, the smoke smell irritating her nostrils and dizzying her head and making it even more difficult to breathe than it already was. After a few minutes, she ended up burying her nose in Ben's clothes, which smelled of blood and sweat, but beneath it she recognized the scent as _his._

Though she'd had no destination in mind, she ended up in front of the Falcon, as if the Force had been guiding her along. Maybe it had. She ascended the ramp as if in a trance, still inhaling Ben's scent as if it were the only thing keeping her sane. Now that she was alone, holding the only remnant of him left – there wasn't even a _body_ – something within her screamed louder and louder that he was _gone._

She kept walking until she found herself in front of the door to the captain's quarters, which caused a lump to form in her throat. As if by instinct, she lowered Ben's clothes from her nose and pushed the button to open the door, revealing the bed in which the Solo family had spent countless nights together. For a moment it seemed that Rey could see them – a small boy snuggled up between his parents, all three curled up under the covers, comforted by each other's presence.

Mother, father, son.

But the vision only lasted a moment before it faded away, leaving an empty bed.

Rey's chest felt so tight that she wondered why she didn't collapse from loss of breath on the way to the bed. Mother, father, son. She sank down on the bed, spreading Ben's shirt out on her lap. Mother, father, son. Her hand brushed over the rough fabric. Mother, father, son.

Mother, father, son.

An empty bed.

Her fingers stuck through the hole in the shirt, bringing her mind back to that moment when she had run his own lightsaber through him. When he was a monster and she'd _wanted _him to die. In that moment, she saw the son who had murdered his father, the creature who had taken over the galaxy and driven it into further darkness. When she stabbed him, she felt no guilt, no remorse, no sadness, only triumph.

In that moment, she would have been worthy to be called Rey Palpatine.

She closed her eyes as she ran her finger around the edge of the hole, her chest feeling like it was in a vice. After she felt Leia's life force go out, something had compelled her to look back at Ben. _Ben_ – for well over a year that had been how her mind labeled him, even after he betrayed her, though she'd always made sure not to call him by name whenever he appeared to her after that.

"_I did want to take your hand. Ben's hand."_

Until then.

In _that _moment, when he looked up at her, all her anger at him vanished and all she saw was a son who had lost his mother. A son who didn't even seem to care that he was dying. When she looked down into those pained, vulnerable eyes, she _couldn't _let him die.

But was it for nothing now?

Han, Luke, Leia – what did _their_ sacrifices mean now?

As she opened her eyes, tears now blurring her vision, a hard, silent voice screamed into her mind, sending a wave of nausea through her.

"_He's dead because of you. You shouldn't be alive."_

She sucked in a sudden gasp, doubling over as if about to vomit. _"You shouldn't be alive."_ Her arms trembled, her legs trembled, her whole body trembled, nearly dropping Ben's clothes. _"He's dead because of you."_ For a few seconds she thought she actually _would _vomit, but she lacked the energy to rush to the refresher.

"_You shouldn't be alive. He's dead because of you."_

Dry retch after dry retch pushed their way out of Rey's throat, leaving it sore and scratchy. _She_ took away his chance to live a new life as Ben Solo. _She_ broke the dyad.

She killed him.

"Why?" she whispered as she clutched his clothes to her chest. Why didn't she remain dead? Why did he pour all of his energy into her?

Why did he give his life for hers?

With every blink, she saw his body fading away in her arms, there one moment and _gone_ the next, and it hit her that she was _alone._ Never again would she feel that twitch in her senses and see him by her. Only now did she realize that she had gotten _used_ to him possibly appearing at any moment. Even now she looked up, as if he would appear again if she could forget he was dead.

What did it mean to be half a dyad?

Who could she even talk to about this? Han was dead, Luke was dead, Leia was dead, all who might understand were dead.

Tears streamed down her face as she flopped down onto the bed where a now-dead family once slept. "Be with me," she whispered in a low, shaky voice. "Be with me." She had seen Luke after death, she had heard the Jedi of old – she _had_ to be able to see Ben, right? "Be with me." She pressed his face into her mind – the brown eyes, the scarred face, the _smile._ "Be with me." She spread his shirt over her face, shrouding herself in blackness. "Be with me, please Ben, _be with me!"_

But there was nothing.

. . .

Rey didn't know where she was. She saw nothing but darkness ahead of her, but strangely she wasn't afraid. Something was calling her – some _purpose_ that would reveal itself if she kept walking. So she walked. The darkness didn't subside, but still she wasn't afraid. There was _something_ out there, right?

"_Rey . . ."_

It was a low, barely-audible whisper, but it was all she needed to break into a run. "Ben?" she shouted, looking all around her but only seeing the dark. "Ben, where are you?"

"_Rey?" _The voice sounded surprised, as if it hadn't expected her to actually answer.

"Yes Ben, it's me! Where are you?"

"_Here."_

Again Rey looked all around, but there was only the everlasting darkness. "And where is _here?"_ The question sounded stupid coming out of her mouth.

"_With you."_

Now she wondered if Ben's voice was playing a game with her – or maybe this was some sort of trick and it wasn't actually Ben. "Why can't I see you? Why can't I see _anything?"_

"_I don't know. Maybe because your mind has been some dark places."_

"My mind . . ." The realization came crashing on her, causing her to sink to her knees. "So this is a dream."

"_Yes."_

"Then you're still dead. You're not real."

"_Yes to the first part. Not the second part."_

"Was that supposed to be a joke?"

"_No, only the truth."_

Then suddenly she felt strong arms wrap around her from behind, squeezing her against a broad, warm body. She looked behind her, and though the darkness was still as absolute as ever, she could _feel_ him. Solid, warm, _there._ She wanted to just hug him back, but she restrained herself from doing so. "How . . . how can I feel your _body_ when you're . . .?"

"_Anything is possible in dreams,"_ was all he said.

Anything was possible in dreams. Now Rey did return the embrace, squeezing his substantial body as tightly as she could, trying to memorize how he felt, but how much of this would she remember when she woke?

"_Rey?"_

"Yes?"

"_Could you do me a favor?"_

Rey almost said, "yes, anything," but she stopped herself just in time. Given the circumstances, that could have been a very awkward answer. "What sort of favor?"

"_Don't let our family's legacy die."_

Rey gulped as she rested her head on his shoulder. "Your family's legacy?"

"_Yes. Our messed-up family, full of darkness and failure but also full of light and triumph. Tell our stories – honestly, don't sugarcoat anything."_

Rey's eyes welled up. "I can do that."

Ben's figure ran his fingers through her hair. _"You're part of our family too. You may not have Skywalker blood, but you definitely have that Skywalker spirit."_ She felt a kiss on her cheek. _"Be happy, Rey. Get married if you want – I know you and that ex-stormtrooper have feelings for each other. Have children if you want. Live a long, happy life."_

"But you _didn't_ have a long, happy life." Rey squeezed him tighter as if that would give him a second chance to live as Ben Solo once again.

His body quivered slightly in her arms. _"Then live that life for both of us."_

They kept hugging in the darkness, not speaking, simply being, the dyad whole at least for this moment.

. . .

The first thing Rey realized when she awoke was that Ben's shirt was still draped over her face, but she didn't remove it right away. There was something calming about just lying here and inhaling his scent and thinking about the dream.

"_Then live that life for both of us."_

"_Don't let our family's legacy die."_

Had Ben's actual spirit visited her dreams, or was it a mere conjuring of her subconscious?

It had _felt_ like it was really Ben in the dream.

When she finally pulled the shirt off her face, she became aware of a faint sound in the distance. It sounded like . . . crying? Wait, a Wookiee crying.

Chewie!

With a gulp, she gathered up Ben's shirt and pants and made her way out of the cabin. How did Chewie feel about all this? He had shot Kylo after he killed Han, but it was a non-lethal wound. Now that she thought of it, she wondered if Chewie had missed his heart on purpose.

When she reached the cockpit, there was Chewie in the pilot's seat, his face buried in his paws, sobbing. With another gulp, Rey cautiously reached over and touched his furry shoulder. "Chewie?"

The Wookiee looked at her with tear-filled eyes. [Rey,] he said in a voice even scratchier than usual.

Rey took a deep breath and handed Ben's clothes out to Chewie. For a moment she wondered if he would shred them up or tell her to take them away, but no, the Wookiee took them, brushing his paw over Ben's shirt as he gazed at it.

[He used to call me Uncle Chewie,] he murmured.

The former scavenger wrapped her arms around Chewie's neck. "He would have called you Uncle Chewie again, I'm sure of it."

As Chewie returned the hug, squeezing her in his big furry arms, Rey's mind went back to the promise she'd made in the dream. Yes, she would tell people. Finn and Poe and Rose and Jannah and everyone else would know Ben's whole story.

_It's all right, Ben. The Skywalker legacy will not die._

_I promise._

THE END


End file.
